all love is unrequited
by crispycrumblycrust
Summary: All love is unrequited...


all love is unrequited

* * *

She sometimes felt so innocent...so dense, both more than enough to not notice anything. And even if she knew about it, she could never really reciprocate it. She was just _that _selfish. Would even throw away the chance at love. Mokou loved her, so dearly. But that immortality potion remained a too big obstacle. And she hating herself more for not even _trying _to destroy the obstacle.

No, she hid behind her human side. Fuzzed about the children, be engaged in their problems. Where she lacked perseverance in her own problems, she more than made that up with her darling children, and the inhabitants in the village. Whether they truly need a helping hand – the the sick, young and old – or not.

Yes, she hated herself. Even so much that she couldn't even get rid of herself. Even if she had some sort of control of over other...side. She couldn't do it. Perhaps it was her youkai side trying to protect itself. After all, Keine suspected that the youkai would fade away too if she were to die. But even someone as dense as herself could recognise an excuse. _She, _herself, was the problem. She was just _that _useless.

Even hated herself more for giving Mokou so much pain. She tried to hide it, but Mokou had never been good at these kind of things. She could see her frown, dips in lips, slouched shoulders, slight hitch in that normally angelic, perfect voice. She knew everything – and perhaps even more – yet acted the exact opposite.

No, Mokou needed someone else, not a person that didn't fit her needs and desires. The princess immediately appeared in her thoughts. They made a perfect pair. They knew each other very long, had that similar, explosive personality, both oh-so very beautiful and perfect, yet so dangerous and alluring, and, of course, that _potion._

The immortality potion.

Worse still, she began to like her other part more and more. She began to feed on it. She needed that. She needed to rely on her, if danger appeared, if the village needed assistance. If she needed to be strong, ruthless, to the point, she needed to change. She hated it sometimes, yet at other times too grateful for the youkai too. She pushed her responsibility away – she knew that, she'd taught so many times to the children the importance of taking responsibility – but she had no other choice. Sometimes, not enough time to call for help, sometimes, not an option to run away, sometimes she needed to act _now_.

A symbiotic relationship. And she hated herself more that that person couldn't be Mokou.

* * *

She would never forgive that hime bitch. Never. Even if they had both silently agreed to be less aggressive, these hints of hate and sadness and guilt would never disappear. With time, it would only grow, grow and grow. She wondered what would happen. But then again, she had all the time in the world, and so much more.

She hated the bitch even more for the expressions that sometimes appeared when her gaze lingered at her. As if she genuinely enjoyed their matches. Sometimes, when both had fallen to the ground, both waiting for the body to regenerate itself, the bitch would sometimes open her mouth and talk to her. About trivial things, but sometimes more personal stuff too. Her voice would sometimes be distorted, if her neck had been hit by a well aimed danmaku shot, or her tongue burned from the heat of the phoenix.

She never understood why she rambled so much with her. Didn't she know that her curt, brusque answers meant? Apparently not. Every time again she repeated this.

It didn't even work when she tried to tone everything down so that both could move after the fight. No, the bitch would just nag her at other times, during the fight, or before it, even after it sometimes, tailing her, just being a royal, spoiled bitch.

But one thing she always looked forward too. No, not the fights, but Keine, sweet, adorable, beautiful, smart Keine.

Always there, always waiting for her, always welcoming her. Always accepting her. So perfect, everything about her. Externally, internally, hell, even spiritually.

Yet, she would always remain The teacher, the half-youkai, her friend. Nothing more...nothing more.

She would forever love the village more than her.

* * *

Boring. Empty, so empty sometimes.

She didn't feel any...usefulness. Barely anything interested her. She had fits and periods where she saw herself from another angle, and would giggle at that strange, yet beautiful woman – she couldn't deny the physical, alluring attraction – yet could see so easily what that perfect body and face hid. So much emptiness. Nothing good. Full of cynism, sorrow, hurt.

Then, every time again, something shook her awake again – be it the little birds that had nested themselves near her window, be it Tewi that pranked her, be it the sun hitting her eyes. She would glance down, and would see that the person she mocked appeared too much like herself. Emptiness always returned then. She would think about nothing. Felt nothing. Not even in the times she stood outside, only clad in thin undergarments, bare toes almost black from the snow, her shoulders and black hair whitened by fluffy – yet chilly and uncomfortable – snow.

A long time ago, almost ancient times, somebody always ordered her around. A time she was asked to do things. Though she masked everything with so much politeness and grace, never did they ask her opinion, not her _true _one. These forced respect – how could one even respect someone like _her? – _laughable. False kindness, while everyone talking behind her back, never in a good way. The underlying fear – even a bit of lust, from men, from women – so visible.

Even when she'd found some inhabitants of the moon, after Eirin had saved her, after they'd built a new life in this mystical forest, every day she still met with this...little problem, this issue. So many questions, so many polite, 'hime-sama', so many bows. Gods, it almost made her want to grip their head, squash the bunny ears, and smash the cute face on the wood, only stopping when the ears had gone cold.

She feared herself sometimes. She couldn't even mock that image, so scared she would become. Because she didn't know that image, didn't know that woman with so long, silky hair, showing a meek smile on that beautiful face. A stranger to herself. And she didn't like strangers.

Everything changed, the first time _she _had killed her – successfully killed, mind you, a record time to recover her body. The many killing attempts, jealous revenges, mad display of emotions and silly thoughts. It never worked. If not stopped by her loyal attendants, then the few times they remained so unfortunate, She would end it, this fight. The other would be so weakened and mad by then to have come so far, far too easy to complete the task, killing her.

Took her a while to get herself killed. So weird, how it happened. So slow, so...not like how a murder worked. At first she had thought this she had started some sort of game, another game. Or some sort of communication. Every era brought on peculiar habits and rituals. A hint she should had payed more attention around her, the world outside the large, comfortable estate.

And even more funny, the woman glared – always glaring, always surrounded by so much heat and loudness and anger – emptied her so meticulously. She broke her bones, snapped muscles apart, burned dress – made by one of the bunnies – and skin away.

She would bite at exposed organs – she'd even heard her swallow a few times, how weird – would put organs back in place, stare at it for a long while, before ripping it away, burning it to ashes.

So strange, only when she had emptied her body completely, changed everything into nothingness, did she feel so...alive. So much...thoughts in her mind. And she could feel so many different things at once. Numbness, wetness, oh, and pain, so much pain everywhere.

From that moment on, she liked the glaring, an absolutely needed condition before they started another round of fighting and recovering from the deadly wounds. Without that, the following...aliveness wouldn't appear. She'd mastered the art of mocking long ago, but now also needed to master the art of sneering, of challenging her. She'd mastered the art of becoming someone else. To be someone else for a moment, just so that she could _be _herself. That would always follow with Mokou – with the glaring, mind you.

She made everything so very easily sometimes. Sometimes she found her – sometimes in so odd hours. Sometimes she needed to initiate. But no matter what the circumstances, it always worked. She always felt alive.

So alive that at some point, she began to mirror Mokou. She couldn't do more, couldn't do better. Of course, she could refer to the giant library, or talk to the bunnies – she could even talk to Eirin, she would do everything she asked of her, if it was within her abilities to do, and was...well, _reasonably _logical. But everything remained imperfect, not good enough. And why do that if she had the perfect teacher here? The perfect person?

She didn't know, at first, whether Mokou enjoyed it. But she always returned. And with every return, She grew more confident, more aggressive, more experimental. She began to enjoy it, more and more, feeling so content and light and full. This sort of contentedness she'd never felt before. Close to bliss, but without relaxing your inner thighs and rock with the thin object inserted inside.

So much better this, so much more perfect. Perfection to each other.

* * *

A selfish person, very much so. She knew about everything, after all, knowledge was her strength. Yet, she couldn't solve this problem...how to...get hime-sama. Truly. True, in a sense, she belonged to her, but she wanted more. Always. As a researcher, she always searched for new experiments, new results. As a doctor, she always tried to find a better way to treat a condition, to create better potions, perfecting her treatment, coming one step closer to perfection. As a guard, she always made sure to judge potential dangers, the sooner the better. As a person, she always strove to become _better_. To become the best. Of course she knew – she wasn't stupid – that that was an utopia. But that didn't mean she couldn't get very close to it, so close that it almost felt like the utopia had come true.

Yet only hime-sama evaded her. She understood her, yet she remained so...enigmatic. Even after being together for so long. Of course she was compelled by her too pretty, perfect appearance. Everything about her screamed allure and sensuality. But deep inside her, these things she hid with half-smiles, sauntering away in grace, answering every question, yet remaining so vague, she didn't come any closer to the answer.

Yes, a selfish person. Hime-sama depended on her for many, many things. And she interacted with her every day. Talked to her. Touched her. Pinched her. Slumped on her. Yet she wanted more. She wanted everything. Every part of Princess she wanted to be exposed to her. She wanted to examine everything, turn everything around, marvel at it at her leisure. She wanted to experiment on everything, wanted to have access, always.

She wanted her.

* * *

She didn't know when her feelings had changed. Of course she'd known the famous doctor, one of the creators of Eientei, the person that had published so many articles that had changed medicine forever. Everyone knew about her. Of course she had fantasied about it, just as one fantasied about being a queen, having a private meeting, a private chat with them. Her heart almost exploded when the doctor had set her eyes on her and _insisted _she became her student. She had demanded it, just as she demanded so many things. Must be part of her personality. But she didn't mind.

Though she'd never even guessed this would happen when she appeared in Gensokyo, it wasn't exactly _bad_. Well, the circumstances of coming here were bad, but not that. Of course, she would never voice the things that sempai demanded, but that didn't mean she didn't desire things.

Sempai was the one to have nursed her back to health, to comfort her when everything became too much, to sit with her when a nightmare brought her back to the world of the living, to pet her on the head whenever she had tackled a problem all by herself.

She didn't know when her feelings had deepened. Or perhaps not deepened, but just more aware of them. And the situations had changed, more...deeper, intimate. She interacted with the object of her fantasies every day. Sometimes even more than the rest of the inhabitants of this giant house.

Perhaps she'd always felt like this, but only after so many times, and so many times interacting with her, that she finally realized what that strange pounding in her chest, her thoughts in rambles, that heavy feeling – though unpleasant, never truly hurting, pinching – in her stomach, wobbly limbs, what all these symptoms meant.

As a doctor, well, the assistant of the doctor, she could diagnose herself quite easily.

* * *

She caused so much fortune for so many people she helped. But only to strangers. She quickly realized the closer she felt to the other person, the less fortunate they would become. Of course, the worst would be herself. Never any luck. No, not entirely true. Of course, luck would appear to her every day. She could get away from doing chores, would never be deadly injured, would always say the smart thing. But in the very important things, luck just faded away. But exactly at that, she was interested in.

Back at the moon, her gift hadn't been special. Tons of bunnies had that same gift. In fact, most of them had far better control over it. It also helped that most took their gifts far more seriously, and didn't prance around. In moon's terms, she was just a babe.

So long she had felt she didn't belong there, didn't belong everywhere. Not special to someone, mediocre skills at best.

But here in Gensokyo, she found a whole different world, strangers allowed her refuge, even almost forcing her to remain in this giant palace. She felt needed. People needed her skills. She felt so very special. But only for a while, of course. This kind of thing never lasted, she had learned it the hard way.

But then _she _appeared. She talked to her, barely mentioned her gift – the sole thing that some people remained interested in. She even waved it away, as if it only brought evil. Well, it technically _could _be evil, but most of the time, a very bright spot for happiness could be found too, if wielded correctly.

She felt so confused, then. At first terrified, flashbacks of a far harsher existence at the moon, harsh living here in Gensokyo. But she quickly realized this was fear differed from her normal fear. And when she realized that, she became far more terrified. Most terrified she'd ever felt. Even more than that one time she the Shrine Maiden had defeated her oh-so-easily. At that moment, she feared she would end her life, too. She'd never dealt with this kind of thing before, well, not personally. She'd given much fortunes to desperate persons, people in mourning, in sorrow, in guilt. But to herself, she couldn't even picture it. Until now.

It fit, her mind working so smoothly. And that terrified her even more. And even more terrifying that such a large part of her _wanted _this, she began to pursue this new task. But she became so terrified again when it didn't seem to work.

Of course, it was her _own _luck she was talking about. And she knew her own luck was in the negative. A price, likely, for her gift.

That meant she would never get what she wanted, the person that would always remain by her side, forever.

Her fellow student.


End file.
